The Queen's Rambles

I really should proof-read my entries. That last one didn’t make much sense. No sleep and no proof-reading will do that to an entry.

To clarify a few things that are probably confusing:

1) We leave here tomorrow! I’m sad to say good-bye to my mom, but I can’t wait for this so-called vacation to end.
2) This is a really old house so there is no bathroom upstairs. Mike was coming down to use the bathroom.
3) Elsa and I were sleeping in a downstairs bedroom. The downstairs bed was too small for me, Elsa and Mike and I couldn’t climb the stairs up to the bigger bed.
4) Mom almost called 911, but then Mike stood up and started walking around all over the broken glass. She was trying to clean it up so he and my niece wouldn’t slice their feet open. It was a huge amount of glass.

My mom and I did manage to have a little fun today–we went and got pedicures. It was only the second one I’ve ever had, but certainly won’t be the last. I don’t know why I don’t do it more often. Probably because I feel like it is something “ladies” do and I never feel like a lady.

I splurged for a sea-salt rub and my lower legs feel amazing. I want to go to a full spa and have an all over body scrub. Can I do that? I know people do. I guess I just have to call and give money and I, too, can be a lady.

My mom has a picture of me and my sister when she was a baby and I was three or four. It was in a broken frame so I went out and bought a new one. Problem? The bottom half of the picture is stuck to the broken glass. Grrrrr! I wonder how much photo restoration costs.

I am considering running it under water and seeing if that will loosen it. I know that sounds like a terrible idea, but I know photos are put under water to wash off the chemicals. I need to do some research and see if that would work or just ruin it. There is also a picture of me at 19 months under the picture and totally stuck. I can sort of see my face and I look just like Elsa. I really want to get that picture. Danged house of doom and their doomed pictures.

Mike hates coming to Oregon.

It’s not that he hates my family. The amuse him.

It’s not that he hates Oregon. Oregon is beautiful.

It’s that something always delays our trip home, either weather, malfunctioning airplanes, or whatever.

This time our trip isn’t delayed *knock on wood* but it has truly been the vacation of doom.

Before I go any further I just want to spoil the end of the story by saying we are all going to live and Mike claims he is not in pain. Remember this as the story goes, ok (Julie, I’m looking at you!).

This house is ancient and you can hear every noise any one makes from anywhere in the house. No one ever shuts the doors at night, much less shuts them. They rely on the dogs to wake them up in case of emergency. They don’t have any smoke detectors, which also freaks me out. I kept smelling smoke all last night, but I’m pretty sure it’s just from the wildfires all around here.

I heard someone run down the stairs around 2 am and convinced myself it was a burglar. I think strange things at 2 am.

I wanted to go put my wallet away, but I didn’t want to be shot by the burglars. Also, I was nursing Elsa so I was sort of stuck in bed. I knew I was being silly, but I’m reading a crime novel right now. They always make me silly.

I finally figured out it was probably my mom, so I was just started to relax when there was a humungous crash and sound of breaking glas. I heard my mom yell “What the hell was that?” but then I didn’t hear anything else except her cleaning up glass. I thought my dad fell, but I knew he was in bed. The more glass she swept up, the more convinced I became that the dog had somehow knocked over the hutch of dishes.

When Elsa was finally done nursing I got up and walked out into the hall. There was blood everywhere. I’ve never seen so much blood in my life.

My mom was in the kitchen sweeping and yelled at me to go take care of Mike, that he was hurt really badly. I started racing around trying to find him but couldn’t see him anywhere. She kept saying he was on the couch, but he wasn’t on the couch.

Finally he staggered out ofthe bathroom, covered in blood. He had rags pressed to his face and was gushing blood everywhere.

He had somehow fallen all the way down the stairs (he thinks) and broke the fall with his face and a window. It was terrible. I just started flapping my arms and trying not to scream. Thank goodness my mom was more level headed.

While she was cleaning up, I got him dressed. Elsa and my niece woke up during this, both crying. My dad got up and thank goodness he wasn’t drunk off his ass like he usually is.

I wanted to take Mike to the ER but I didn’t want to take Elsa there and get her a nice little MRSA infection so my mom took him.

I got the kitchen and hall cleaned up while my dad entertained Elsa and tried to comfort my niece. We couldn’t get ahold of my sister to come get my niece and she wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. She was totally freaked out, rightly so. Eventually she let my dad turn on cartoons and I was able to get her to lay down with a pillow and blanky and she went to sleep while my dad stayed with her.

I laid in bed for three hours thinking and thinking and thinking. I was so grateful he was alive and moving of his own volition, but I kept thinking about the “what ifs” and “might have beens.” We are so very lucky he didn’t break his neck or slice open something vital.

Mike ended up with 25 stitches in four (I think) different cuts, plus he has all kinds of other shallow cuts on his face. He has goose eggs and a swollen face. Things are starting to turn yellow. He claims he is not in pain, but I don’t see how that is possible.

In other great vacation news, I went to a funereal today. I shouldn’t have been worried about finding something black to wear. We were just about the only ones wearing black. I have only been to a couple of funereals in my life so don’t have any experience, but aren’t you supposed to wear black to a funereal? And I know I must be spelling that word wrong. It’s really bugging me.

And now, to continue the doomish theme, my aunt and cousin that have never expressed any interest in us at all want to come over this afternoon to see the baby. I hope my sister doesn’t show up while they are here. No telling what she’ll do. We don’t need to see world war three.

I hope we are able to make it back to Maryland without any more incidents.

I know you never thought you’d hear (see?) me say this, but I almost feel sorry for my sister. My mom is on an anti-L rampage and there is nothing the girl can do to make it better. Other than grow up and be a responsible human being, I suppose.

Today my mom was asking her if she was going to her class tomorrow before the funereal, so L started explaining why it wouldn’t be worth her time to go (she’d only be there a half hour before she’d have to leave) and my mom started screaming at her that she didn’t want excuses, she just wanted a yes or no answer. When Mike pointed out that she was the one who asked dear sister about her plans, she didn’t know what to say.

Then someone was over here and made a comment about all the candy everywhere and my mom started bitching about my sister getting all the candy.

Ummmmm.

She got all the candy because my mom specifically TOLD her to get a shit load of candy for the pinanta for this fake birthday party she was throwing for Erik.

Have I ever mentioned how happy I am that I don’t live here? Mike has only heard it a million times this week. Not only is my family insane, this town is so economically depressed that there are condemned buildings lining some of the main streets. I can’t stand it here.

My mom wanted me to get Erik a birthday card so she could give him birthday money, but Mike and I put our foot down at that. I suppose a party can be fun, even though it sets a bad precedence, but a birthday present when it’s not the child’s birthday? No. Just. . . . no. Do I even have to explain it?

Later, a family friend came over and started going off about illegal immigration and asking how many illegal immigrants live in our neighborhood. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never asked to check the papers on all my neighbors. My mom and the guy started talking about how smart Arizona was to start checking all the paperwork and didn’t understand why Mike and I weren’t impressed with racial profiling. Our discussion got so heated it woke the unwakeable baby. Whoops! Normally I won’t talk politics with my mom since it is just easier to agree to disagree. Neither one of us are going to give. Interestingly enough, my dad is pretty much a total liberal even though he would never express it in those words and he certainly doesn’t vote.

At least my back is feeling quite a bit better. I may even be able to walk upright for the funereal tomorrow. I was *thisclose* to being upright today. I even managed to get my haircut, my brows waxed and a black cami for my outfit before totally collapsing.

My mom went out and bought a new keyboard today so I’m very happy. My finger didn’t fit in the N hole very well. I know that sounds wrong.

My back is still out, but doing slightly better. The neighbor had muscle relaxers, so I took half of one. I was worried about it with breastfeeding, but just waited until she was down for the night and I wouldn’t be feeding her for several hours. A full dose is two pills, but meds always knock me for a loop. I felt like my body was just a big bag of jelly, but at least it was major relief from the pain.

I seriously hope this bad back is better by Thursday (or sooner). I went shopping for a funereal outfit* and it just about killed me. This is a small, economically depressed town. There are literally three stores that carry plus-sized clothing: Wal-Mart, Fred Meyer and Ross Dress for Less. Fred Meyer used to have a decent selection, but it was really pathetic today. I finally found a black top and a pair of black dockers that will be ok. I wanted a skirt, but there was not a single black skirt or black dress in the women’s section.

The nearest “big town” is over an hour away. My life on the east coast has left me complacent. I can get just about anything I want via the internet or with a little bit of travel. I’ve forgotten just how frustrating it is to need something and have no way of getting it.

My mom is throwing Erik a birthday party.

Go ahead and ponder that for a few minutes. I’m still pondering it. His birthday is October 13.

She’s got the cake ordered, party favors purchased, pinata stuffed, and all that jazz. The cousins are the only invitees, so at least it is going to be a small affair. I don’t really understand but oh well. Grandma’s priviledge I guess. I don’t know if Erik is going to be excited or confused. Probably both.

Other than the bad back and funereal we’re having a really relaxing vacation. Erik and the cousins are all getting along great. Mike is enjoying not thinking about work. I’m enjoying watching the kids play outside in the much cooler weather. Good stuff. Nothing much to write about since it is all going so well. My mom had a big talk with my sister about bringing ten million kids over here, so it is much more relaxing than last time I was here.

*The funereal is for an old family friend. Not someone I actually know that well, but I do need to go since I’m in town.

After a very long day, we made it to Oregon a few minutes early. My mom has internet, but no N key which is making typing super fun. This will be short.

Erik was such a screamy baby in general, but an excellent sleeper on the plane that it never occurred to me I might be saddled with a screamy plane baby. Elsa is not generally a screamer, but I don’t think the people seated around us will ever believe that. It was quite miserable until she fell asleep.

She slept on my lap for four hours and now my back is paying the price. It was hurting this morning, but then I went and twisted it wrong and now I can’t stand up straight. Mike likes having my eyes level with is nipples, I think.

I hope it heals quickly because carrying around a 22 pound baby with a bad back is impossible.

I was going to take Erik to the fair today but there’s no way I could do it. He ended up going with my mom, sister and the three cousins. I hope he has fun and they take lots of pictures.

Speaking of the boy, I was so impressed with him on the plane. He was pretty bored b/c his game ran out of juice, but he didn’t whine or cause a fuss at all. He watched the movie (Diary of a Wimpy Kid), stared into space and did math problems with Mike.

Can I just say I find it beyond bizarre that his idea of fun is math problems? I don’t get it. I brought him magazines, maze books, play-doh and matchbox cars, but he just wanted to work on simple adding problems with Mike. I guess he takes after his father in more than just looks. I wouldn’t say I’m bad at math, but I certainly don’t enjoy it.

Mike is out with my brother-in-law levelling the sand for the pool. Who on earth is going to go swimming? It’s freezing here! My mom picked us up last night and had her van A/C blasting. It was only 66 degrees. When you’re used to temps up to 100, 66 is pretty dang cold. It’s not supposed to get above 82 the whole time we are here. My parents don’t have A/C (most people around here don’t), but that doesn’t matter. It is still cooler here than it is in our upstairs bedrooms with our A/C running.

I’m tired of sticking my finger down the N hole so better wrap this up. Hope you guys are having a good weekend!

We leave tomorrow! I can’t believe we are doing a red eye, but that seemed the best option at the time. We’ll just feel like shit for a few days, then turn around and come home and feel like shit for a few more days. Isn’t travel fun?

My goal is to just take two bags for the four of us. You may start laughing now.

My mom’s washer is always going since my sister uses her as a laundry service so I think we can make do with very few clothes. We won’t need any long pants or bulky sweaters, so that cuts down on a lot of room right there. I am going to take a supply of cloth diapers and detergent, but that shouldn’t be too bad.

I never thought I’d be schlepping cloth diapers across the country, but I can’t stand to use disposables when I could be using cloth. I have always hated disposable pads with intense hatred so I can’t stand the thought of sticking my baby in disposable diapers for the first several years of her life. Didn’t seem to bother me with Erik, but now that I have the diapers and know how to use them it just makes sense that we would take them with us.

Our weekly library trip was a total bust this week. I don’t think we ended up with a single good kid’s book and the two grown-up books are also total crap. Have I ever told you I love calla lilies? I picked out a book about a girl named Calla Lilly by Rebbecca Wells (Ya-Ya Sisterhood fame).

Someone needs to hire that woman an editor, stat! I think the Society for the Integration of Exclamation Points was paying top dollar to ensure an exclamation point in every single paragraph. I am only about 100 pages in and am going to turn it in tomorrow. I wouldn’t have read that much but it was the only unread hard back I had available to take to the gym. It reads like a very poorly written blog. I’m 1/3 of the way through and I have no idea what the central plot or conflict is supposed to be.

The other book is a parenting book that is totally outdated–Raising Your Spirited Child. Someone told me I should get it b/c it might have some good ideas for Erik. Thus far I’ve only read the description of the “spirited child” and have no clue why someone thought I needed it. Erik does not fit the description at all. If he did I’d have him at the doctor’s office asking for a referral for county services. The book was written in 1991 so maybe sensory issues were not treated at that time? Basically the spirited child as described in this book is probably either on the autism spectrum or has major sensory issues (the whole day can be ruined by a sock rubbing the wrong way, the child has a two hour tantrum if things don’t go exactly the way s/he wants/expects). Things have really changed in the past 20 years in regards to childhood therapies. I’d say Erik is probably one of the few kids I know who doesn’t have some sort of therapy, from speech to occupational to sensory.

Sure, Erik can be stubborn at times, but I usually am pretty good at distracting or manipulating him. He hasn’t had a major tantrum in a long, long time. Certainly not one that lasts for more than five minutes.

Did I tell you about the kid in his camp who was having a full blown tantrum? Full body on the floor, kicking, screaming, punching, the whole nine yards? It was shocking to see a big kid having a tantrum like that, but I just assumed the child had some sort of issue. I did my own little prayer of thankfulness that Erik is a good boy and getting to be very mature.

In fact, today the boy decided our house was dirty and he needed to clean it. I was quite impressed with the way he cleared the floors and put his toys away. He was not impressed with my attempts at cleaning. It’s hard to clean when you have a 20 pound weight attached to your chest.

Mike got home super late because he was picking our friends up from the airport. He had the van all day so he could fit them all in, which meant I had his little Mazda.

I swear I was driving a clown car. I was really dumb and put the baby seat behind me, not thinking about how much room it takes up. I had to have my seat pulled all the way forward , so my legs were squished against the dash. The dash was about 100 degrees, which meant my leg was burning and sweaty. I could barely drive. It was not a safe situation, which is how I came to be in the parking lot at the pool switching out the car seats.

Have I mentioned that I love my van? The car was hot and cramped. After sitting up high in the van it felt like I was sitting in a hole. I could barely shove the baby seat in, even after I moved it over to the other side. It was just a mess. Am I spoiled? Yes indeed.

No idea when I will be able to post next. My mom says her computer is full of viruses since my sister and her husband use the computer and download stupid things. They always fall for the “You’ve won the lottery! Click here to claim your prize! Forty gold nuggets will be yours! I’m a Nigerian princess!” scams. You’d think it’d be harder to scam a scammer, but they both believe they are special and deserve random money to fall in their laps.

Just a bunch of random stuff that I’ve mentioned or people have asked me about.

1) The sonogram results: I have a cyst. Duh. How many times do I need to be diagnosed? I am going in for another one in October to see if it is growing or changing. The doctor doesn’t want to do surgery if it isn’t bothering me, but it is bothering me quite a bit. I am trying to hold out for October when Elsa is six months old. She won’t take a bottle so I am concerned about needing to be in the hospital a few days and pumping and dumping.

My sister is concerned that I’m having an abortion and thinks it is a terrible idea. She’s very pro-life and doesn’t understand that even though the cyst has body parts it isn’t a baby and doesn’t have a body. It doesn’t matter how long it grows, it will never develop a body. It doesn’t have a brain. It isn’t anything like a baby. She’s still concerned and thinks I’m a terrible person for even considering “getting rid of it.”

I can’t imagine all the horrible people real women who get abortions have to deal with. I’m not even having an abortion and am getting this BS! Maddening. Truly maddening. I’m not even going to go into my views of abortion (pro-choice) or what’s wrong with this world because it will wind me up too much).

2) I found a charger for the GameBoy at Overstock. I am hoping it gets here by Saturday (we leave in the evening). I’m sure it will. We already got one game. I specifically ordered it from a vendor in Maryland hoping that would help speed it up. The vendor turned out to be about five miles from our house so my evil plan worked.

3) I love, love, love my new DIAPER BAG. It’s beautiful. And functional. And perfect in every way. I didn’t understand the stroller strap option, but now that I understand I want to know why all bags don’t come with such a thing. Basically you hook these two loop things onto your stroller then you clip your bag on when you go somewhere and it hangs nicely.

4) I am losing all my baby hair and it is beyond annoying. Yesterday I started crying when one of the hairs was white. Solid white. Noooooo!!!!!!!!!!!! When did that happen? I thought I was going to be spared the monthly dye jobs that most of my friends have already started, but I guess not.

5) We have a new store for big busted women at our mall, Bastien’s Foundations and I love it! I hadn’t looked in it before because I’m nursing, but I noticed a sign that said they carry nursing bras. They don’t have a huge selection, but any selection at all is better than nothing. I was shocked when the gal took my measurements and said I was an I cup. That would explain why my boobs are falling out of my swimsuit. Honestly, I don’t think she was that accurate, but I was able to buy a bra that fit really well and felt fabulous. They even had some sexy bras, but not sexy nursing bras. I hope they are still in business when I’m done nursing. I looked at their website hoping to direct you to your local store, but they only have one brick and mortar location. If you are big busted you’ll have to come visit me and we’ll go bra shopping. They even have a nice little waiting area for your boyfriend/husband/kid.

I filled out a survey thing to get coupons and was laughing at one of the questions. They wanted to know if I would be willing to mentor a big busted teen with self-esteem problems due to her big bust. I circled maybe. A store with a social conscience is nice. I’m not sure what to say to a big busted teenager other than telling them that foundation garments are key and scoop necks are not your friend.

6) I smell sour milk. I fear it is me.

7) I did my 31 Things for 31 Days list for my moms club newsletter (thanks Bethany!) and now am trying to do something off the list with Erik every day. It’s hard to be fun and educational every day. Everything seems like so much work, even the small things. Why can’t we just take a nap every day? Of course, my main problem is that I don’t want to go outside. It’s disgusting out there. The humidity is so thick you can see it. I can’t wait to get to Oregon.

8.) I was going to have a “no spending money day” yesterday and failed miserably. We had a traveling salesman come to our door, which was the first sign that my goal was doomed to failure. I ended up buying a set of kid’s encyclopedias. I fondly remember my grandma’s set and am sure this set will see a lot of use over the years.

Then I thought I would be smart and go to the consignment store and use my credit to buy Elsa a new baby play pad (the one we have is pretty lame). Turns out I didn’t have any credit and they had a really cool pedal powered go-kart that Erik had to have. We got it home and he totally freaked out and refused to use it. When I have time to work with him a little I’m sure he’ll love it and it will see a lot of use through the years. Plus, I got a much better play pad for Elsa so it wasn’t like it was totally frivulous stuff. I was going to get a play pad anyway so I suppose I did save a bit of money.

I decided I couldn’t spend any more money so I sent Mike to the karate school to deal with the hard sell. It turns out to be a better deal than swimming lessons, so Mike signed Erik up for six months (starting in Sept) and we got a free birthday party out of the deal. I am so glad I don’t have to plan a party. I’ll still have to do a lot of the food/favors/invites planning, but I won’t have to build an obstacle course, dress like Indiana Jones, or run myself ragged entertaining 10 four year olds for a couple hours. Being the party runner is exhausting.

I think I am insane. Last night I was planning out a whole big cooking class co-op idea. Then I woke up and decided I didn’t have the time or energy for something like that. In my planning it only would have gone on for 6-8 weeks, but still. Who has the time?

Instead, I talked to the people at Romp ‘n Roll about their cooking class. I decided it is much too young for Erik (ages 2.5-5 in one big class? No.).

Tomorrow we have a (free) private karate lesson, then I suppose we’ll get the hard sell about enrolling. I think it is the best option of all our choices (and believe me, in this area we have choices out the wazoo). Erik is desperate for a dance class, but every single place I’ve called said I am welcome to enroll him but he’ll be the only boy. I don’t want to be gender biased and all that, but I don’t think he would really enjoy a class full of girls. I’ve talked to him about it and he says he wants a boy dance class. Guess that’s not gonna happen.

We had a very long afternoon today. Elsa was hysterical, something that really hasn’t happened before, and Erik and I are both pretty worn out. He kept telling me to get the baby away from him because he was tired of listening to the screaming. He doesn’t remember that he screamed like that every single day for hours and hours.

The worst was that she would get even more upset when I would try to nurse her. When I hear a crying baby my inclination is to stick a nipple in their mouth. That would always calm Erik down, at least briefly. Basically, she hasn’t eaten since noon. Not like she’s going to starve. Yesterday I had a lady ask me if she was 9 months. She weighed more than this ladies tiny little one year old.

She finally fell asleep, so hopefully she will be happier when she wakes up.

Erik is getting back into a peeing of the pants mode. It makes me crazy. I think I’m going to try Beck’s idea of randomly checking is pants throughout the day and giving him a reward if they are dry/on. I don’t know though. As I said before, I have a really hard time with reward systems. I can’t stand the whining for a sticker and the manipulation. Make no mistake about it, Erik is one manipulative little guy. He is sweet and fun and smart, but he can play the system like the best little con man in the world. The rule would have to be that he gets a point taken away if he asks for a point. Not sure how well that would really work, though. I was thinking about giving him points or quarters with a goal of working up to a new Wii game. Not that I want him to have another game, but it would certainly motivate him.

Either that, or I’ll just send him to time out every time he pees his pants. I know you aren’t supposed to punish kids for potty issues, but it sure is tempting when you know the problem is that they refuse to stop what they are doing and go when they need to go.

My fantasy book forum is supposed to be reading a book by a self-published author. The author offered to send us all free books and some people voted for him. I guess the rest of us should have gotten together and made a plan to all vote on the same book. With the exception of my friend Jolene, I refuse to read self-published books. I know there are probably excellent ones out there, but the ones that I’ve read? Hoo boy. They make me want to poke my eyes out. It’s hard to break into publishing, but there’s a reason people want to read books that have been vetted by a professional book editor.

I got my copy of the book and don’t see how we are going to do a book club with it. I read the first three paragraphs and don’t think I can read more. I was hoping it wouldn’t be too awful since the guy can write a nice forum post, but it is just terrible. And how do you totally bash it when you know the author is going to be reading the conversation? I try not to be that big of a bitch, but I can’t think of anything good to say. It’s painful.

First things first. It has been almost ten months since I migrated over to this new blog. I just realized I should add some links to my blogroll. If you read me and you want a link, please let me know! I am very lazy, otherwise.

We went to a really fun birthday party at a karate studio this afternoon. I’ve been trying to think of the perfect party for Erik’s birthday and karate may be the answer. After doing some simple kicks and punches, they did a bunch of different obstacle course type things. Erik wants an Indiana Jones party. I was planning on doing that at home or the park and basically just doing a bunch of obstacle course type things. Could this work? Would I be willing to pay the price (I didn’t see any pricing information).

The strangest bit of all: there was a boy named Indiana at the party. His dad was obsessed with the movies. Erik was very put out that the kid got to have that name and he didn’t. I am a former Indiana Jones lover myself, but I don’t think it ever occurred to me to name a child Indy. The kid will have a lot to live up to.

I am quietly freaking out about going to Oregon. It will be the first time we’ve been back since my grandma died. I think we’ll be there at the one year anniversary of her death. She died two weeks after we got back from our last trip so that adds up. It will be so strange not to visit her and listen to all her crazy talk. She drove me up a wall, but I loved her. She always meant well even though she obviously had a lot of issues to work through.

It makes me sad that she never knew we were having another baby. We thought we were pregnant in April thanks to those cheap Chinese tests my friend gave me and it was really hard to tell her we weren’t actually having a baby since she was so excited.

We visited Oregon when Erik was four months old and Elsa will be four months old on this visit. I just remember Grandma getting so angry at me because I wouldn’t let her feed Erik any pudding cups and she’d bought a bunch especially for him. Every time I was there with Erik we’d get into big fights about the food. She’d try to give him ice cream sandwiches at 9 in the morning. Why didn’t I just let him have that last ice cream sandwich?

Erik’s been talking about her and saying he’ll see her in Oregon even though we’ve explained many, many times that she died and we won’t ever see her again. He says that he is going to fly into the clouds and tell her to open her eyes and help her fly back to Oregon. I haven’t really disabused him of that notion. Honestly, I have no idea what to say except to keep repeating that she is asleep forever.

I was going to order or buy Erik a Nintendo thing for the plane, but then I remembered that Mike used to have a Game Boy Advance. He just found it but can’t find the charger. I found some cheap games to order and can probably order a charger, but will they get here in time? It’d be way cheaper than a whole new system.

Did I ever tell you my new bag arrived? And it is totally beautiful and everything I hoped it would be? It’s very “me” and all kinds of fancy. I was feeling semi-guilty about buying it until my friend pointed out that I would spend more than that on an outfit for a fancy night out and it would only be worn once, but this bag will be used every single day for at least two years. Kinda puts things in perspective.

Also, I just sold a couple of things and someone wanted to put an ad on my old blog so all that covers the cost of the bag. Blog ads are such weird things. They wanted it on my old blog, so I know they were really just paying for a link. I had to drive a hard bargain to get what I wanted and then I thought I was going to have to cancel after all because they asked me to do something a bit shady. I don’t do shady. I don’t mind having ads on my blog as long as they are clearly identified as ads. My readers are smart enough to know what’s an ad and what’s not an ad. I refuse to try to use my blog to trick people into doing things for my own monetary gain. Not that I’m popular enough to get any offers of items to review, but if I did I would clearly state that was the case.

My biggest problem with summer camp is the drop-off and pick-up. Of course that’s my biggest problem. That’s my whole exposure to summer camp.

I just can’t believe how rude the other parents, counselors and older campers are. Or maybe they’re all blind? Is it possible to have a hundred blind people gather in one place (that’s not some kind of blind convention)?

The entrance to the community center has a set of double doors, a foyer, then another set of double doors. The doors have a handicap button and I have Erik well trained to push it so I can get the stroller in with ease. The first set of doors require a button push and the right door opens. The second set of doors always have the left door open. When I go in I always go through the right doors (having Erik push the button) unless no one is coming, then I’ll zag over to the already open left door.

Other people? UGH! They are incapable of going out the door that is closed. If my right door is open the people coming out zag over to come out my open door just because it’s open and apparently opening a door is SO FREAKING HARD they have to make the lady with the stroller stand there while they slowly zag out.

Yesterday we were trying to leave, so it was opposite. We walked out of the left door and then got stuck because a counselor was bringing in his 30 kids. Could they all just walk in the right doors? No. I got stuck in the foyer waiting for all thirty bleeping kids to zag through the open door because the counselor was too lazy to pull open the door that would have allowed traffic to flow freely.

At least I had a stroller. The lady behind me was carrying her baby in the bucket seat without a stroller. At least her baby was a lot smaller.

I know that I’m pretty spoiled if this is the biggest problem in my life. Still. . . I don’t understand!

I go to lots of places and always have people helping me out or at least staying out of my way. I don’t understand why this camp, a place full of MOTHERS, is so full of rude people who don’t know how to manage door traffic. Do I need to start a door traffic etiquette class?

In other news, my redneck neighbors left for their new life in Texas today. They were good neighbors and I’m sad to see them go. We haven’t had to mow our lawn since they moved in. The lady was obsessed with mowing and did at least 10 lawns around us.

I will be glad that they won’t be bringing all their redneck crap to us. She brought over a bunch of books for us since she knows we like to read. I can’t stand to touch old, used, nasty books. They are all smokers, so of course the books all reeked. She also brought over a bunch of dusty, broken RC toys for Erik. Now he is freaking out because he wants to play with them (duh!) but none of them have chargers so none of them work. Thanks a lot, lady. I know she thought she was doing a good, nice thing but all she did was make my life harder.

I wanted to take a picture of their trash yesterday. They had a gigantic black crucifix sticking out of their garbage can. It was just so. . . unexpected. Before I could get out my camera someone trash picked it.

I can’t believe we are going to Oregon in just 9 days! I am so not ready. I talked to my very drunk father last night and he managed to totally piss me off. Surprise, surprise. I shouldn’t take anything he says seriously. He’s drunk and stupid, but he said Elsa was weird looking in all the pictures we sent. How am I supposed to take that? Ok, so I know she is not really very photogenic, but people should tell me that. She really is quite cute in person, but she gets a weird look in pictures. The most ironic thing: in pictures, I think she looks almost exactly like my dad.

It also sounds like my sister is spiraling out of control again. I wish she would just sign away her parental rights or get her act together. Her poor kids are so confused. It breaks my heart to think of the life they are living but I know I can’t do anything about it. I doubt I could ever get custody unless my sister and her husband both died. What would I do with a first grader, kindergartner, preschooler, toddler and infant? Three of them would need serious counseling. I suppose Erik might also need counseling if he suddenly found himself sharing me with three more kids.

I don’t know what happened this weekend, but her facebook went crazy. Either her husband broke into her account and posted all her text messages to her boyfriend, or her boyfriend broke in and posted them or she was so drunk she thought she was posting messages to just her boyfriend and she was posting them as her status updates.

How can two sisters be so very different?

Guess I better go shower and pick the boy up from camp. We’re having a playdate here this afternoon. Vacuuming would probably be a good idea. I am such a terrible housekeeper. Ugh.